Home for the Holidays
WIP Author’s note: *''Some names/numbers were created/supplied by my mother. Thanks, Mom!'' *''‘LT’ (pronounced El Tee) and ‘Gunny’ are terms of endearment for Lieutenants and Gunnery Sergeants. Please know that I am not a Marine (yet :D) so the factual (‘factual’) information in here might not be completely accurate. I got the info from books, internet searches, and Marine Corps forums. Please forgive any mistakes.'' *''MRE= meal ready-to-eat. It’s basically a meal in a bag.'' *''THE IDEAS IN THE BELOW STORY ARE MY OWN AND NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO USE THEM UNLESS I EXCLUSIVELY SAY SO. ;( they’re my brainchildren and I love them'' *''Characters (arranged by rank) for your convenience (and mine). Are labeled with branch, godly parent, and occupation:'' *''President Zoë McCullum—(formerly Captain, US Air Force)Daughter of Zeus'' *''ZCVC PO (typed by my cat. She looked sad so I’m just gonna leave it :P)'' *''Special Agent Sarah Grey—(CIA)Mortal, Dreamwalker'' *''Colonel Audrey Liesson—(USMC)Daughter of Athena'' *''Lieutenant Commander Jason Knight—(US Navy, SEAL)Son of Poseidon'' *''Lieutenant Colin Pollack—(US Navy, SEAL)Mortal'' *''Lieutenant Connor Jackson—(US Navy, SEAL)Son of Mars'' *''First Lieutenant Max Grey—(USMC, military police)Daughter of Ares'' *''Lieutenant Junior Grade Daniel Hale—(US Navy, SEAL)Mortal'' *''Lieutenant Junior Grade Lucas Cody—(US Navy, SEAL)Mortal'' *''Gunnery Sergeant Margret ‘Maggie’ Ryans—(USMC, military police)Daughter of Bellona'' *''Corporal Catherine ‘Cat’ Jameson—(USMC, military police)Daughter of Asclepius'' *''Corporal Brent Xandaers—(USMC)Mortal'' *''Lance Corporal Harley Davis—(USMC, military police)'' *''Private First Class Heather Raynell—(USMC, military police)'' *''Doctor Tori Summers—(Pediatrician, pediatric psychiatrist)Daughter of Apollo'' *''Doctor Aaren Hope—(Freelance lawyer—specializes in criminal and women’s cases)Daughter of Athena'' *''Rachael Knight—(Baby)Daughter of Aaren & Jason Knight'' *''Joseph Castle—(First Man, Environmental Lawyer)Son of Demeter'' *''Emilica ‘Emmy’ Castle—(Child)Daughter of Zoë and Joseph'' *''Alexander Baddie McBadsterson—(evil Circle leader that won't *#$%@#$ die)Mortal'' *''Some gods, a few Circle baddies, and several angry monsters'' This story is placed after pertinent events (it was the only Christmas story I could finish), so here’s a quick rundown so no one is left behind ALERT: The 14 most powerful Greek demigods (children/ champions of the Olympians, Hades, and Hestia) went up against the Circle (a huge organization that wants to destroy every polytheistic religion—essentially, they’re fanatics) and their evil, all powerful virtually unknown immortal affiliates (a group of über-powerful beings spawned from the primordial ooze—older than Gaea. They’re the unofficial (nonexistent in reality. These guys came from my own imagination) children of Chaos itself) and defeated them, but lost a few of their own in the process. The remaining of the original 14 demigods have not aged visibly in the seven years since their victory. Jason and Aaren are married and have one child (two years old). Zoë and Joseph Castle (son of Demeter) also have one child (six years old). Zoë is in the third year of her first term as the first female president of the United States of America. She won the election by a landslide and is expected to win the next election also. The USA’s national debt is drastically low, as is the unemployment rate. Unfortunately, due to the number of terrorist cells in the area (as in anti-USA and anti-democracy and anti-free will, etc.) there is still a necessity for a military presence in the Middle East. Permanent bases have been established, and there are even some international compounds with areas for several countries. The Middle East itself no longer has ‘countries’, the former countries (Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan, etc.) are now general areas with one governmental council (6 men, 6 women, chosen by world leaders and strenuously screened for their ability to keep their cool in a land of such turmoil). Most residents of the Middle East live in large cities because out in the open there are way too many insurgents. The insurgents rarely attack the cities, but when they do it’s always brutal and devastating. Said insurgents seem to be more organized than they ever have before. Lieutenant Max Grey kicked her feet up onto the rock in front of her and smiled. “Enjoying your mail, LT?” Gunnery Sergeant Maggie Ryans—aka Gunny—asked. “Yep. It’s always nice to hear from home when we’re stuck over here.” Max tapped the end of her pencil against her lip, debating what to write back. Dear Tori, Hey there. I’m glad you wrote; it’s started to get a little lonely over here—especially with Gunny reading everything I write. “Max!” Gunny exclaimed indignantly as she wrestled her long light-brown hair back into a tight bun. “Don’t write that!” Max laughed. “Tough, Gunny. Besides, Tori’s gonna hear about it eventually.” Gunny huffed. “Well—well at least try to write neater.” Max pretended to look offended. “My writing is perfectly neat!” Gunny raised an eyebrow. “Shoo, Gunny.” Max made a shooing motion with her free hand. “Go clean your rifle or something.” Gunny stalked off. Gunny’s gone now—finally. She’s like some kind of...well, she’s like a mother. Ha! That’s it—she’s our unit mother. It’s official. She’ll go ballistic when I tell her. Anyway, I can’t wait to get home—and nor can anywhere else. It’s a blessing we’re due back Stateside a few days before Christmas. When I get back, I’m taking as much leave as I can. I plan to just relax ''for a few days. With you, of course, assuming my mother lets us out of the house. You know how she gets around Christmastime, all ‘family-family-together-together-no-privacy-whatsoever’. It’s cold over here. I’ve been in some pretty damn cold places, but this tops them all, I swear. Think we can find a place with a giant fireplace? I think I might have to spend a few years unfreezing my toes. Based on the schedule, I should be back home before you get this letter. I don’t think our departure is going to be pushed back any farther. ''Surely ''the Colonel isn’t that cruel. Someone was looming over Max’s shoulder. Her hand froze. ''Joy. It’s the Colonel’s messenger. ''She cleared her throat pointedly. “Yes, Corporal Xandaer?” The young man shuffled his feet nervously. Max tended to have that effect on a lot of her fellow Marines—she had a reputation of being quick to anger, and most were afraid of stirring the monster. That, of course, was an exaggeration. Max really didn’t know where the rumor had originated. She was generally very even-tempered and when she did get angry, there was no fire and brimstone. It involved an abnormally quiet, calm voice that scared the wits out of the object of her frustration. Sometimes Max thought it might be her appearance. Men get intimidated by women taller than them, and at six foot four, Max is taller than most. And she knew for a fact that her dark grey eyes could be downright scary in the right light. Someone even had the gall to suggest that Max’s beauty was intimidating, but Max just couldn’t see it. She kept her looks utility, minus the occasional ear stud. She kept her black hair slightly shorter on the sides than the top and spiked into a barely-there Mohawk. Corporal Xandaer cleared his throat several times. “Out with it,” Max ordered. “The—the Colonel wants to see you. He says it’s urgent.” Oh, joy. “Alright. Give me two seconds.” Well, the Colonel’s asking for me. Who knows why? Maybe it’s good news; Christmas presents perhaps. That’d be a sight. Maybe I’ll get a Marine Corps teddy bear. I’ve always wanted one of those. Can’t wait to hear that special news you said you had for me. Take care of yourself, Tori. Love, Max Max tucked her letter into an envelope and tucked it into her coat. She’d mail it later. Corporal Xandaer led her to the Colonel’s office/hut, holding the door open then sealing it shut once she was in. Max stood in the doorway waiting for the Colonel to finish her call. Her back was to Max, and Max knew better than to bother her. The Colonel set the receiver back into its rack and sighed, muttering something under her breath. “What is it?” she asked, her voice terse, not bothering to turn. “You asked to see me, Colonel,” Max said. “Right. Have a seat, Lieutenant.” It wasn’t a request. “Yes, ma’am.” Max quickly seated herself. “Do you know why I called you here, Lieutenant?” ''It’s always bad news when she doesn’t look at you, ''Max thought worriedly. ''Always. ''“No, ma’am.” “The President herself has requested you and your selections for a…special mission.” As if she’d somehow seen Max’s mouth open through the back of her head, the Colonel held up a hand for silence. “I do not know what this mission is. The task is sealed in the envelope in the seat next to you.” Max grit her teeth, hanging desperately onto her cool. “My unit has been ready to go home for five months, Colonel. We were scheduled to leave this hellhole in July. Then August. Then October. November. Now it’s only three days away and you want to take that away from them?” The Colonel stood slowly, sighed, and turned to face Max. “Do not overstep your bounds, Max.” Colonel Audrey Liesson is an intimidating woman. She’s six feet tall and stocky, for a woman, and has a mass of curly red hair that, somehow, she keeps wrangled into a tight bun. She runs a clean ship and nothing—''nothing—''ever slips by her. But the worst part is her eyes. They’re clear and grey and way, ''way ''too much like her mother’s. The aforementioned mother is Athena, by the way. ''Sh!t. “I think I have a bit of a right here, Colonel,” Max said, her voice calm and low. “My unit deserves this. You know what we’ve been through these past few months.” Colonel Liesson gave a frustrated sigh. “Max, most of your unit is ''going home in three days. Only you and four others won’t be.” “I’m not going to ask any of my Marines to give up their holidays for a mission they don’t know sh!t about.” The Colonel narrowed her eyes and matched Max’s tone. “You don’t have a choice. The President requested you specifically—I don’t know why she couldn’t have picked some other Military Police Officer, or some infantry officer, or a SEAL team, and I’m telling you I tried to get her to pick someone else. ''She ''called ''me, ''just now. You ''cannot ''refuse.” Max stood angrily. “I—” “You’re smart, Max,” Colonel Liesson cut in. “Brilliant, even. You’ll go far as long as you don’t do what you’re doing now. You can smart off to the gods as much as you want, but you’re in the military now, Max. You’re bound by an oath to carry out your orders.” Her voice softened. “No matter how much you hate them. Am I clear?” Max knew she was right. ''And from the president, no less. “Yes, ma’am.” Colonel Liesson nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Now take that envelope, pick your four Marines and get going. The President said that this mission is time-sensitive, and extremely so. Dismissed, Lieutenant.” Max grabbed the envelope and marched out. Gunny was waiting for her when she reached the mess hall, where her unit was eating. “Everything okay, LT?” Gunny asked. “You didn’t look very happy when you walked off.” Max shook her head. “Everything is definitely not ''okay. We need to round everyone up; I have some news for ‘em.” “I realize that none of you know why you’re here instead of at dinner,” Max said to her unit, “but it’s important. I can’t tell you much more than that yet.” The gathered platoon groaned. Lance Corporal Harley Davis raised her hand. “We’re not getting pushed back again, are we?” “No, not all of you.” Chatter broke out in the platoon. Max raised her hand—the hand holding the envelope—for silence. “I need four volunteers for the mission outlined in this envelope. I don’t know what it is and I can’t open it until I have said volunteers. Before any of you volunteer, though, I want to make something very, ''very ''clear.” Max met the gaze of each of her Marines to let them know she was completely serious. “You will bear no blame if you don’t volunteer. I don’t want any of you to volunteer. I am unofficially ordering all of you ''not ''to volunteer. You all deserve to go home now and no one will think any less of you if you decide not to give that up.” No one said a word. ''Good, ''Max thought, satisfied. ''They understand. ''“Now. Any volunteers.” After a short pause, every Marine present raised their hand. Max clenched her jaw. “If you have kids, are married, or have a boyfriend/girlfriend, put your hand down now.” Three-fourths of the platoon retracted their hands. Five Marines were left. Max pondered the merits of each woman. ''I can’t decide. ''“Pick a number between one and one hundred,” she ordered. “Seventy-eight,” Gunny said. “Ten,” Lance Corporal Davis said. “Sixty-three,” Corporal Jameson said. “Twelve,” Sergeant Hill said. “Three,” PFC Raynell said. “The number was thirteen,” Max told them. “Sergeant Hill, tell your family hey for me, alright?” Hill nodded. “Can do, LT.” “Dismissed, everybody.” Max turned to her four new companions. “Well, ladies, let’s see that this is about.” She opened the envelope, at long last, and held the letter out so she and her team could all read it. Lieutenant Grey and company: First I must apologize for taking you away from your trip home. I know you’ve all been held back for special assignments, but I promise you’ll be reimbursed for your troubles. Now for your mission: My daughter was kidnapped by a cell of the Circle. I am afraid that they will ransom her or use her to get to me in some other way and that would put me in a position where I would have to choose between my daughter and my country. I cannot and will not choose. My husband and my advisers urged me to deploy a SEAL team but I want to keep this as quiet as possible (even though it was all over the news yesterday) and, besides being more than capable you are already very close to where they are holding her. Now I’m asking this as a mother, not as President. I love my daughter dearly and fear that they might be planning to kill her. Please, she’s only six years old. Find her and keep her safe. Coordinates are listed below. Good luck. President Zoë McCullum Heather Raynell gasped. “Is that the president’s signature?! Can I have that? Just the signature? Pleeeease?” Max ignored the girl. ''Zoë’s daughter has been taken by the circle? But I thought we crushed the circle seven years ago. '' Gunny noticed the worried look on Max’s face. “I’m going to guess that this is worse than it sounds. And it sounds pretty d@mn bad.” “What’s…the Circle?” Corporal Jameson asked, looking up from the letter. “I’ve never heard of them.” “The Circle is a group of self-serving bastards,” Max growled through gritted teeth. “Seven years ago some good friends of mine were ''murdered ''by Circle operatives. If the president’s daughter is in their hands, we need to get to her as fast as possible. I hate to say it, but she might not have long.” Lance Corporal Davis laid a reassuring hand on her Lieutenant’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back, LT.” Max nodded once. ''We have to. ''“Go get packed, all of you. Make sure you get in extra ammo and MREs. We’re leaving in ten minutes.” An hour and forty-five minutes later, Corporal Xandaers dropped Max and her team off three miles from their destination. “Just go on back to the base, Xandaers,” Max ordered. “Yes, ma’am.” He drove off swiftly, neglecting to use his lights for fear of alerting the enemy. “Why aren’t we going all the way, LT?” Private Raynell asked quietly. Max grit her teeth. “Three miles shouldn’t be a problem for any of us.” “Because we were louder and more visible in the Humvee,” Gunny told Raynell, her voice much gentler than Max’s. “And the element of surprise is something we need more than anything.” “Oh,” Raynell muttered, embarrassed. “Right.” Max set the pace at a fast march. Upon arrival, she motioned for her team to duck down behind a sand dune. “Remember that these people shoot to kill, so don’t be afraid to do the same. The satellite pics of this place show it as a square building with front, back, and roof entrances and two windows on each of the four sides. My guess is it has a basement of some sort, and that’s probably where the president’s daughter is. Gunny and I will take the front and Jameson, Davis and Heather will take the back.” “Judging by the size of the building, there won’t be too many people in it to cause us trouble,” Gunny added. “Just watch out for little Emmy; if she’s in the line of fire, by god don’t shoot.” “And if you see a chance to grab Emmy, do so and keep her covered.” Max watched the lights in the building flicker briefly and followed the shadows on the wall as they moved. Slowly, she rose into a high crouch. “Let’s do this.” The five Marines advanced slowly, keeping to the shadows, splitting up and circling around. Max stopped at the doorway, motioning for Gunny to cover her. ''One…Two…Three! '' ''BANG. The door slammed into the inside wall and broke off its hinges with the force of Max’s kick. The Circle operatives in the building jumped up from their card games and rushed for their guns, but Max and Gunny were too fast. Max shot at the knees of the men in the room. Jameson, Davis, and Raynell broke in just as the Circle people started shooting. Bullets flew everywhere. “Max!” Davis yelled, pointing her gun at the stairwell across the room. More enemies were storming up the stairs, guns at the ready. Max bashed one operative in the head before joining her team in the center of the room. The twenty new arrivals from the basement circled Max and her team, boxing them in and keeping their rifles leveled the Marines’ heads. Max scowled. D@mn it. Seriously, who hides that many people in the basement? One tall man, obviously the leader, broke through the circle of Circle operatives. His face and arms were badly scarred, as if clawed by a large dog. “Well, Max,” the man said. “We meet again.” Max spat at his feet. “Alexander. I thought your ugly face would be six feet under by now.” Alexander laughed evilly. “You wish. I take it you friend in the White House sent you after the child?” “Does it matter?” “No. You’re all going to die soon anyway.” “Wonderful,” Gunny muttered. “Well,” Max said as she nonchalantly examined her rifle, “that’s a funny assumption. You seem to have forgotten that I ''gave you those scars.” She looked Alexander in the face, held his eyes, and slowly leveled her rifle to his chest. “Max Grey doesn’t lose.” Alexander didn’t even have time to tell his soldiers to shoot before Max’s bullet punched a hole in his skull. The soldiers surrounding Max and her team yelled in surprise, then opened fire. “Hit the deck!” Max yelled. She heard one of her Marines cry out. ''Aw hell naw. No one hurts ''my ''Marines. Suddenly, all at once, every bullet in every Circle operative’s magazine exploded out and backwards into its owner’s body. They never had a chance. Davis gulped. “Hey, LT…what…just happened with the—the bullets?” “We got lucky.” Max cast a quick glance at all the bleeding men on the ground, making sure their lights were completely out before turning to her team. “Who got hit?” Raynell waved a hand weakly. “That’d…be me.” Max knelt at her side and moved her hand away from her stomach to look at the wound. She cringed. That’s a nasty bullet wound. ''“Jameson, see what you can do,” Max ordered. “Yes, ma’am.” Jameson pulled her med kit out of her pack and got to work. “Davis, go down in the basement—but be careful. If Emmy is down there, keep her there until we call you up.” Max looked at the dead bodies again. “No child needs to see this.” Davis nodded and, flashlight on, headed into the basement. “Gunny—” “Bodies. On it.” Gunny started helping Max drag the bodies outside. “Three got away,” Max told her. “Two most likely concussed, the other shot in the leg. You think they’ll be a problem?” Gunny didn’t stop her task. “No doubt you’ll take care of them if they are,” she said curtly. “Hey!” Max grabbed Gunny’s arm before she could escape inside. “I did what I had to do.” Gunny glared at her. “You almost got us all killed. Raynell might still die.” “I had it under control,” Max insisted. “Stop acting like I committed a ''crime. If I hadn’t done that we really would be dead.” “Yes,” Gunny agreed, “but couldn’t you have messed with their guns before ''killing the leader?” Max snorted and stormed back inside, calling as she did, “I ''was.” “How is she?” Max asked Jameson worriedly. Jameson pursed her lips and looked up at Max. “She should be fine, but…we can’t move her.” Max cursed. “How long?” “Not until the shock wears off, at least,” Jameson said, “and at least another hour or two after that. But she still won’t be able to walk, and I doubt she’ll be waking up before sunrise.” Max nodded her understanding. “Let’s see how she is when she wakes up and go from there.” Gunny, who had been calming herself in the chill outside air, reentered the building. “So you aren’t worried about those two men that got away?” she asked. Max shook her head. “Davis! Come on up.” “And why aren’t you worried?” Gunny challenged. “They could easily come back with reinforcements.” Max scowled out the window at the sand dunes. “I’m here. As long as I’m here, they won’t get close enough to do much.” “MAXIE!!” yelled a young voice. That was the only warning Max got before she was tackled and floored by an over-energized beast with ruffled blond hair and Wonder Woman pajamas. Max laughed and ruffled the beast’s hair up more. “Hey there, Emmy.” Emmy sat up and grinned, her vibrant white/purple eyes alight with joy. “Thanks for clearing those evil men out.” She wrinkled her nose. “They were weird.” “Emmy, all men are weird. It’s part of the man code.” Emmy pouted. “My daddy isn’t weird.” “I’ll give you that one, kiddo.” Davis back from the basement, raised an eyebrow. “You two know each other, LT?” Emmy smiled wider. “Maxie is my godmother, Harley.” *Cricket, cricket.* Gunny snickered. “‘Maxie’?” Max seethed. “Emmy, let me introduce you to my buddies. The lanky, snickering one is Maggie—” “Or Gunny,” Gunny interjected. “—or Gunny, my right hand. The short one with the long arms is Harley, our comms specialist and resident hacker. Blondie squatting over there is Cat the medicine woman and the sleeping one next to her is Heather, the happiest of us all.” Emmy said hi to everyone, then, as all children do, let her stomach speak. “Maxie, do you have food?” Max nodded. “Go with Gunny; she’ll get you squared away.” Emmy jumped up and ran to Gunny. “She’s cute,” Davis said. “She’s the devil incarnate,” Max said knowingly. “Did you find anything down there, Davis?” “Yes ma’am I did. Plenty of blankets and cots, an electric heater, guns. Lots of guns. There were some unperishables down there, but not enough for thirty plus men. They had a supply truck coming in in the morning.” Davis lowered her voice. “Max, they were keeping that poor girl in a dog crate.” When I get my hands on those bastards, I swear I’m gonna rip their hearts out! ''Max looked across the room at Emmy, who was happily munching on an MRE and chatting with Gunny. “She’s a strong kid. I think she’ll be just fine.” “She could be in denial.” Max sighed worriedly. “Yeah. I’ll see if my girlfriend can take a look at her when we get back stateside.” Davis nodded. Max took a deep breath, then let it out. “Davis, take Gunny and get the Humvee,” Max ordered. “If Raynell is up for it, I want to get back to base in the morning. I’ll stay here with Jameson and Emmy and see if I can move some o’ those blankets and cots up here—and that heater.” “Yes ma’am.” Davis went and filled Gunny in before they both departed. Max made her way to Jameson, who still hadn’t moved from her spot next to Raynell. “Anything?” Jameson shook her head. “She’s sleeping now, which is good.” “Did you get the bullet out?” “No. It went right through her.” Max grimaced. “Can you take a look at Emmy?” Jameson looked at the girl across the room. She was still munching. “She looks fine, LT.” “She can’t feel, Jameson. If she’s hurt, she probably doesn’t even know it.” “Can’t feel…anything?” “Not really. She can detect changes in temperature, but only barely. It could be freezing cold and she’d barely notice. Pressure is the same.” “That kinda sucks.” “Just…make sure there isn’t anything to worry about, okay?” “Sure thing. Stay with Heather?” “Yeah.” Max sat down in Jameson’s spot once she’d gone over to Emmy. Raynell didn’t look good. Her normally tan skin was unnervingly pale from blood loss, and, even though the temperature was hovering right around freezing and decreasing by the minute, she was sweating. “I’m sorry, Heather,” Max whispered. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” On the other side of the room, Jameson gasped. “LT—get over here!” Max ran over to her. Jameson pointed her flashlight at Emmy’s back—and the long gash ripped into it. “What is it?” Emmy demanded. “I’m telling you, I’m fine.” “No you’re not, Emmy,” Max said gently. “There’s a—” The rapid ''chitchitchit ''of machine gun fire wafted in from outside the building. “''Damn!” Max shot to her feet.'' “''Corporal,” she said firmly, “get that gash taken care of while I see what’s up. And do not, ''under any circumstances, leave these two.” '' Jameson nodded quickly, already getting to work on Emmy. “Yes, ma’am.” Max grabbed her rifle from its spot on the floor next to her and sprinted toward the gunfire. She spotted Gunny and Davis after only half a mile. The two women had taken cover behind a small dune and were taking turns shooting at their assailants. Max, now under heavy fire, had to slide baseball-style into the cover the dune provided. “Hey there, ladies.” Gunny popped off a few well-aimed shots at the enemies, ducked back down, and gave Max a glare. “And you said the escapees wouldn’t be a problem.” “Actually, Gunny,” Davis said, “she said they wouldn’t be much ''of a problem.” “Same difference.” Max popped her head over the top of the dune and raised her rifle, shooting at the men shooting at her team. Gunny and Davis rose up on either side of her, following her example. ''POW POW POW POW POW POW POW. Chitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchitchit. Click. ''Max cursed. “Jammed.” She threw her rifle down, pulled her sidearm, and kept shooting. Enemies kept falling, but two seemed to replace every one that was killed. Gunny grunted, and her right side jerked back. “Godd@mn it!” Max knew, without looking, that she’d been hit. “Get down, Gunny!” Max grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin with her teeth and chucked it at the mass of soldiers only a football field away. ''BOOM. ''A ball of fire rose up from the other side. “Good arm, LT,” Davis said, ducking down briefly to reload, then popping right back up. “Lots of practice,” Max said. “Max!” Gunny yelled over the noise of the gunfire. “''Grenades!” Max looked to the sky and sure enough there were oval-like shapes flying through the air. Max aimed up and started shooting at every one she saw. Soon, the sky was alit with explosions. Without thinking, Max switched out her empty mag for a full one. “''Down!” Davis pushed Max to the ground just as a bullet whizzed through the air right where Max’s head had been. “We’re never gonna make it to the Humvee, Max,” Gunny panted. “We have to pull back.” Max put her sidearm away and reloaded her rifle. “Gunny, can you run?” Gunny nodded. “It just hit my shoulder.” “Okay. Davis, you go in front, clear the way.” Davis nodded. “Gunny, stay in the middle. I’ll cover you.” The three women waited several seconds for the firing to cease. The moment it did, Max gave the ''go ''sign. Davis sprinted out first, gun at the ready, Gunny right behind her. As soon as they set foot outside the cover of the sand dune, enemy fire picked up again. Max fired back at them as she ran out behind her companions. At about the hundred-meters-away mark, all gunfire stopped. The night became silent. The three woman collapsed behind the safety of the concrete walls of their stolen building. Jameson, her keen eye noticing Gunny’s injury immediately, rushed over and got to work. “What the hell happened out there, LT?” she asked. “Those two that escaped? They got help.” Max scanned the horizon, looking for threats. “A lot of it.” ''Rrrrrip. '' “Ow!” Gunny yelled in pain. “If you’re gonna rip my shirt, be a little gentler. ''Please.” “Shush, Gunny,” Jameson snapped. “You’ll wake Emmy.” She oh-so-carefully peeled Gunny’s blood-soaked undershirt away from the wound in her shoulder and shined her flashlight into it. “How’s it look, Corporal?” Gunny asked, watching with rapt attention. Jameson shrugged. “Not bad. The bullet didn’t go too deep and the bleeding is slowing quickly. I think I could get the bullet out without causing more damage, but I don’t want to do that without something to cauterize the wound with.” “I can get it,” Davis offered. “No,” Max ordered, rising to her feet, trying to keep the worry off of her face. “I’ll get it. You need to get us a line to Colonel Liesson, tell her what’s going on.” “She’s probably asleep,” Gunny stated tiredly. Max grit her teeth. “Then we’ll wake her up.” She met Davis’s worried brown eyes. “Two things: One: we’re going to be fine. All of us. Two: Don’t stop calling the Colonel until you get her. Tell me the second you do.” “Yes ma’am.” Davis grabbed her pack and started doing her thing. Meanwhile, Max ran into the basement and grabbed the electric heater. Jesus Christ! ''She thought as she lifted it. ''This thing must weigh a couple hundred pounds. ''She placed in a corner upstairs, near where Jameson had put the cots, and plugged it into a wall outlet. When it shuddered to life, she turned it up to high. “I need pot,” Max called out, casting around for one. Gunny laughed weakly. “Thought you were clean, LT.” “''A ''pot. I need ''a ''pot. A large one. Or a pan. I need a pan.” Davis’s muffled voice came from the other side of the room. “There’s one in a cabinet below. It’s like three feet across—big enough for a freaking platoon’s worth of food.” Max grabbed it and filled it with paper balls from the stationary she carried with her. ''I need more. Suddenly something soft hit her in the head. She whirled around, only to find it was—Gunny’s undershirt. “Hope you don’t mind, LT,” Jameson said innocently as she pulled one of Max’s own undershirts from her bag and waved it. “Gunny needs it more.” Max made her unamused face before turning back to her task and ripping Gunny’s undershirt—the dry parts—into strips. She pulled her custom wolf-engraved lighter—a ‘You-survived-the Basic School’ gift from Tori—and poured all the fluid onto the flammables in the pan. “Davis, after you’re done, can you help me take apart some of those wooden chairs downstairs?” Max asked. “And do you have any pins or wires you’re not using?” “Yes, no,” Davis mumbled. Max sighed and held a paper to the heater’s coils until it lit, then put the paper in the giant pan. The paper & shirt lit with a whoomf. '' ''BANG BANG BANG! Everyone awake jerked and ducked as three bullets blasted through the windows, completely shattering them, and buried themselves in the back wall. “''D@mn!” Jameson hissed. “The fire! Put it out.” Max cursed under her breath and slammed her fists into the fire, smothering it and ignoring the heat. They know what I’m trying to do. This fire—they knew it was going beyond just cauterizing things. ''Max cursed violently under her breath. Jameson gave her a concerned look. “Uhm…” Gunny quirked an eyebrow wearily. “I feel…like something is ''wrong. ''You never cuss that bad unless something is ''really ''wrong.” “I…” Max hesitated. ''This is only going worry them more. ''She looked at Gunny, who was starting to shine with sweat but, as usual, didn’t look very worried, then at Jameson, a medical expert, who was too concerned for comfort and trying to hide it. Davis stopped trying to call in so she could hear what Max had to say. “The last time I messed with these guys, their bullets…” Max looked away and rubbed the back of her neck nervously. “They poisoned them.” “With what?!” Jameson demanded. Max shrugged. “We just called it the Elder Poison.” “Well what’s it made of?” Max shrugged again. “I don’t know its real name or what it’s made of, but I know the signs a person has it, and I know the symptoms they suffer.” Gunny started to nod off. “We have to keep her awake, Jameson,” Max said firmly. “No sleep, period.” Something tugged on Max’s sleeve. Max jerked and went for her knife, but relaxed when she saw it was only Emmy—although the poor girl looked scared half to death. “Maxie,” she said, “is Maggie gonna be okay?” “Yeah,” Max replied, smiling gently. “Can you do me a favor? Down in the basement there is a broken chair leg and a bottle labeled ‘Vodka’, grab both of them and bring them here, okay?” Emmy nodded and, in that cute little kid way, ran off to grab the requested items.